“I might decide to be agreeable,” Ágota answers.
“I want you to deliver a sealed letter to your father for me.”
“That’s all?” Ágota is as surprised as I am.
“In these very uncertain times, it is wise to create relationships with other men of power.”
“Or women.” Dominique’s voice is as piercing as her gaze.
Wirich flinches. “Yes. Especially those with sharp teeth and a sharper tongue. My apologies.”
Lifting a shoulder, the vampire turns away from the conversation and disappears into the darker part of the room, which makes me rather nervous. Her teeth are very sharp, as is her sword.
“Your friend does not seem too pleased with you,” Albrecht says, smirking.
“She dislikes when I do not grant her the proper due,” Wirich answers. “Something you should keep in mind for your future. Do not upset the woman in your life.”
Albrecht scoffs at his father. “Yet you upset my mother.”
“That is a talk for another time.” Wirich focuses on my sister. “Are you agreed?”
“What will be in the letter?” Ágota asks.
“It will be a simple letter of introduction. That is all.”
“May I read it before you seal it?” Ágota meets the man’s gaze.
I sense the conversation has undercurrents I do not understand. Perhaps it is because he has fey blood in him, and she is possibly testing him.
“You may read the letter, Ágota,” Wirich promises her.
“And you will not alter it before the letter is sealed.”
“I will not.”
“Or have anyone else alter it.”
“Agreed.”
“No enchantments of any kind will be imbued on the paper.”
Wirich bursts into boisterous laughter. “You are a clever witch, but I promise you that it will be merely a letter of introduction.”
Ágota sits back in her chair and taps her fingers on the table. At last, she says, “Very well. I will deliver a letter to my father in exchange for safe passage through your land.”
“I am glad we are agreed. Now, Albrecht, lead the young ladies to the bedchamber next to yours. That’s where they will sleep tonight.”
“I am not a servant,” Albrecht protests.
“No, but you are my son and you will obey.”
With a snort, Albrecht stands and gestures for us to follow. “Come on then.”
As Wirich trails after Dominique, we scurry behind Albrecht. The boy obviously isn’t too pleased with being tasked with our escort and walks so quickly he is soon far ahead of us. I am glad to have a few more minutes with the boy. Despite his surliness, I rather like him.
Ágota slows me with a hand on my shoulder and leans toward me to whisper, “Do everything I say and do not falter. Despite their hospitality, all is not well here.”
“Because of the vampire?”
She shakes her head. “Did you see the boar’s head?”
I nod. “It is really frightening.”
“Did you see anything wrong about it?”
“I noticed something was amiss, but I could not sort it out,” I confess.
Ágota glances back toward the fireplace and sucks a breath through her teeth. “It has the eyes of a human.”
“What does that mean?” I gasp.
“It means we are not safe here.”
“Are you coming or not?” Albrecht barks at us from down the corridor.
Gripping my hand tightly in hers, Ágota guides us deeper into the castle.
Chapter 8
Reality blurs around the edges. I shift between the world that once was and the one I inhabit now.
Am I wrapped in my sister’s embrace, attempting to sleep in a darkened room in a strange castle?
Or impaled on a bier in a mausoleum, watching shadowy figures moving about me through half-closed eyes?
“Who are you?” I whisper through cracked lips.
No one answers.
My mind flits back and forth from the present to the past, pain swelling to nearly unbearable intensities before it recedes.
I feel Ágota’s fingers combing through my hair while another trembling hand bathes my face and neck with a damp cloth.
I am both ravenous with hunger and full with a warm meal.
I am small and delicate in my sister’s embrace and shriveled and weak on the bier.
I hear bones rattling as they are swept from the mausoleum, and the wind howling against a narrow window on the far side of an elegant castle bedroom.
I feel safe and loved, and afraid and alone.
I cannot tether myself to only one time, so I drift between both.
The scrape of metal against stone startles me from my trance and–at last–I find my anchor. With relief, my mind settles into my younger form. My sister and I are curled together in the center of a large bed, her arms around me as sleep tugs on my eyelids.
Again, the sound of metal grinding against stone reverberates through the room.
“What’s that noise, Agy?” I whisper, stirring from my drowsy state. “Is it the door? Is the vampire coming to drink my blood?”
“It is not the door,” she answers, pointing to the closed one across the room. Sitting upright, she searches the corners of the room. “I am not certain the vampire would need a door. What is that sound?”
The dim illumination from the smoldering fire in the hearth does very little to dispel the murkiness dwelling on the edges of the room.
The grating noise stops.
“I hate this place,” Ágota grumbles. “It is too big, with too many corridors, and too many rooms, and far too many men.”
“And a vampire. And a boar’s head with human eyes,” I add.
“You are not very comforting, Erjy.”
Ágota tenses as the scraping noise starts anew. She lifts an arm, her palm erupting into light, and the brilliance presses away the shadows and reveals Albrecht standing a few feet from the bed with his fingers shielding his eyes. Clad in a tunic and leggings, he holds a scabbard in his other hand. Behind him is a gap in the wall. A narrow metal door stands open, and I realize it was hidden by the stone façade.
“What are you doing here?” Ágota demands, rising onto her knees and shoving me so I fall behind her.
“I venture where I like. This is my castle,” Albrecht answers testily.
“You are intruding nonetheless,” Ágota retorts with a snarl.
“Is that a secret passage?” I point to the darkened doorway with excitement. “Where does it lead?”
“Yes, it is a secret passage and it ends at my room.” Albrecht sulkily regards us with his dark eyes. He is rather pretty in the illumination of Ágota’s magic. “And I cannot intrude in my own home.”
“Well, you are! My sister was attempting to sleep when you so rudely woke her.” Ágota tosses the ball of light into the air where it hovers over the bed, bathing us in a white glow.
“I wanted to show Erzsébet my sword.”
Ágota’s eyes narrow. “Explain yourself, pervert!”
Albrecht raises the scabbard in his hand. “This is my sword. A gift from my father. I told your sister I will be a great warrior one day and I want to show her my sword.”
“How dull.” Ágota sniffs with disapproval. “But at least it is not the sword between your legs.”
“It is a fey sword,” Albrecht snaps, blushing. “Magical. Powerful. The White Woman in the Wood had it made for our family.”
I wonder how involved the powerful fey is with her human progeny. “Have you ever met her, Albrecht?”
“Or does she avoid your family because you are a nuisance?” Ágota wrinkles her nose at him.
“You know nothing of her,” Albrecht responds with a defiant tilt of his chin.
“Yes, we do. I negotiated our passage through her land,” Ágota replies.
Albrecht’s shoulders sag. “Oh.”
“So you have not met her have you?” �
�gota climbs off the bed to stand in front of him. They are nearly the same height, but Ágota makes a point to take advantage of the slight difference to look down at him. I suspect that beneath her skirt she’s on her toes.
“No, not yet. I will when I am older.”
“She is utterly terrifying. You will piss yourself.” Ágota smirks.
“I will not. She is my kin!” Albrecht fidgets with the hilt of his sword and appears to ponder Ágota’s remark. “What does she look like? Is she awful somehow?”
Ágota lifts a shoulder. “She is very, very white. Everything about her is white. Hair, eyes, skin... even her gown. You can barely look upon her because she glows brighter than the moon.”
“I covered my eyes with my hands,” I confess, and that is all I truly remember about the encounter.
A few nights ago, Ágota and I had been sleeping in the high boughs of a tree when I was awakened by a bright light. Raising my head, I had observed what at first I believed to be the moon plummeting from the sky. The shimmering orb of light halted its descent beside us, hovering majestically. Staring in awe, I noticed there was a woman in the center of the sphere. I had only a few seconds to observe her beauty before the presence of the fey rendered me into unconsciousness. I awoke hours later when the sun broke the horizon to find Ágota nervously pacing around the base of the tree. I had no recollection of the conversation between The White Woman of the Wood and Ágota, which my sister said was for the best because she was truly terrifying.
I doubt that Albrecht would fare much better in the presence of such a creature. He appears to be as mortal as I. Assuming I am mortal. I might manifest magic when I reach adulthood.
Albrecht regards us with contempt. “Well, I have her blood in my veins. I doubt I would cower in front of her.”
“I did not cower. She was just very bright,” I say, bristling. I deliberately do not tell him I swooned before her.
“This was such a nice visit,” Ágota says with exaggerated pleasantness. “A shame you must depart so we can sleep.”
Albrecht scowls in response. “I want to show Erzsébet my sword. You really should not be so suspicious.”
Ágota places her hands upon her hips, her fingers moving in very precise motions against her skirt. Albrecht glares at her, appearing not to notice her gesticulations.
“You trespassed in our room—”
“This is a room in my house.”
“—to show my sister a sword given to you by someone you’ve never met—”
“But I will one day.”
“—and you expect me not to be suspicious?”
I am rather impressed that Albrecht is not in the least intimidated by Ágota. She can look very fierce when she desires to intimidate someone. Instead, he stands tall and regards her with a very calm demeanor. Only his dark eyes flash with indignation.
“Be suspicious all you like, Ágota. I told you why I am here.”
“I suspect you are a liar.” Ágota sneers at him. “Your too-pretty face is not so innocent.”
“Your attitude is why I would rather marry her than you. I do not like you,” Albrecht answers, surprising us.
“What?” Ágota’s eyes flare with indignation. “Who said anything about you marrying me or my sister?”
With a knowing smile upon his lips, Albrecht deftly takes the upper hand in the conversation. “My father. He hopes to negotiate a marriage contract with your father. He said I could choose one of you. I prefer Erzsébet. She’s pretty and not so insolent.”
Ágota’s face flushes crimson. “Is that why he wants me to deliver his message to my father? To arrange a marriage?”
“He wants a letter of introduction so he can create an alliance with your father.” Albrecht shrugs. “It is not irregular. A political marriage in the future would be a wise move for both our fathers.”
“Why would your father want you to marry me? I am not noble.” I am utterly surprised at this development for my fears have centered on the possibility of being stalked and bitten by the vampire, or turned into a boar, not discovering I was a potential bride for a young aristocrat.
“You are witches. Father is saddened by the loss of magic in our bloodline. He wants me to marry a woman who will restore powers to our family.”
“Marry one of your fey cousins then,” Ágota sniffs.
“I cannot. The fey are forbidden to sire any more children with humans. Their numbers are dwindling, so they have to preserve their bloodlines. My father says humans are destroying magic bit by bit.”
Ágota grunts in agreement. “They are a sordid lot.”
Albrecht pointedly steps to one side so he can view me without Ágota blocking his way. “Would you like to see my sword?”
I actually do, but I say in a rather bored tone, “I suppose.” Though I am intrigued by this handsome boy, I do not want him to see me as too eager.
“Do not point it at either one of us,” Ágota orders.
Albrecht dismisses her with a sneer of his perfect lips while I climb off the bed and venture close to my sister’s side.
“This blade can kill any creature,” Albrecht says proudly while drawing the sword.
It is beautiful and unlike any weapon, I have seen before. Albrecht slowly rotates the blade so I can admire its beauty. Intricate engravings on the blade shimmer with white magic. I am awed by the great power I sense infused into the metal. He slashes it through the air and white light trails behind it.
“It cannot kill witches, so do not even try,” Ágota warns him.
Giving her a disbelieving look, Albrecht says, “I have no intention of killing you, but if I wanted to, this would be the blade to end you.”
“You can only kill witches in very particular ways. Ways you do not know, little boy.”
“I am fourteen. Nearly a man.” Albrecht straightens his spine and lifts his chin. “One day I will be Count Dolingen of Gratz, so do not underestimate me.”
Ágota lifts her eyes, muttering in Magyar under her breath.
Ignoring her, Albrecht points to the blade. “See, Erzsébet. It is infused with the greatest of magicks so no man can defeat me on the battlefield.”
“Does that mean you do not even have to try?” I ask curiously.
A startled expression shadows Albrecht’s face. “No, of course not. I must learn to fight without the benefit of this sword.”
Ágota laughs with dark humor. “But you will still cheat in battle with it, correct?”
“I really do not like you.” Albrecht pointedly glowers at her and I adore him all the more.
Though I love my sister, I aware of how terrifying she can be in the eyes of others. Albrecht does not even cower one little bit before her. Not only is he handsome, but fearless. I am utterly smitten. I have never felt so enthralled by anyone before. It is a giddy sensation.
“And I do not like you, Albrecht. Good thing you decided to marry Erzsébet and not me, hm?” Ágota lifts her eyebrows. “Though, you will not marry either one of us. I will make sure my father never agrees to such a thing.”
Sliding the sword back into its sheath, Albrecht ignores her. “Erzsébet, I promise that one day you will be Countess Dolingen of Gratz no matter what your sister says.”
Ágota’s portent from the day before springs to mind and I give her an inquiring look. She deliberately averts her gaze from me, her lips twisting into a frown. The castle is grand with its tall towers, battlements, large rooms, and elegant furnishings. Will this one day be my home? Will I one day be a countess? The thought excites me beyond measure.
“You really should return to your bed before I set you on fire.” Ágota summons the shimmering orb of magic from where it hovers in the air to her palm and it transforms into flame.
“You really should treat me with respect. This is my home.” Albrecht’s fingers tighten on the hilt of the sword.
The flames in the center of Ágota’s hand grow taller as she sneers.
“She is in a foul mood,” I say,
stepping between them. “Thank you for showing me your sword, Albrecht. It is lovely.”
Placated, Albrecht bows his head. “Until the morning, Erzsébet.” He steps into the secret passage and closes the door behind him. It melds seamlessly into the wall.
Ágota extinguishes the fire hovering over her palm with a dramatic wave of her hand.
“You could have been nicer,” I say.
Flicking her fingers, Ágota sends all the furniture in the room sliding across the floor to pile against the secret door. The covers on the bed spill onto the floorboards as it joins the barricade.
“How are we supposed to sleep now?” I ask testily.
“We are not. We are leaving. Now.”
Longingly staring at the bed, I pout. “But I am tired.”
“We are also in danger.”
“Because he wants to marry me?”
“No, Erjy! Because of the boar with the human eyes! The vampire! And that awful boy carrying a sword about that is far too dangerous for him to wield! This is not a safe place!” Ágota claims her bag and stalks over to the window. Peering through the panes of glass, she frowns. “I will have to use a lot of magic to hide our flight, but there is a ley line over those hills, so I will be able to replenish what I expend. Put on your cloak. It is near the door.”
As I regard the pile of furniture, I consider arguing with Ágota. I was not lying about my exhaustion, but I also want to see Albrecht before we depart. I am completely enamored with him, and therefore, the castle does not seem as foreboding as before. Perhaps the boar with human eyes was an enemy of some sort. I had witnessed my own mother transforming evil men into wild boars. If we were closer to our former home, I would suspect the boar’s head over the mantle was one of those villainous men.
I start to open my mouth, an argument rapidly forming on my tongue before I notice the tears of frustration in Ágota’s eyes. Instantly, my heart softens. How difficult it must be for her to be entrusted with my care as we journey through treacherous mountains, forests, and fey territories when she is barely a young woman. Though I never thought we would be in danger from mortals, I realize how mistaken I had been. She is burdened with my mortality. I am shamed by this revelation.
The Impaled Bride Page 8
